


Tick Tock

by Zai42



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Case Fic, Drama, Fever, Multi, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: When Grizzop falls ill with a mysterious fever, Wilde and Zolf have to rescue him, but time is running out.
Relationships: (IMPLIED), Azu/Albert Einstein (Rusty Quill Gaming), Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	Tick Tock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyouokaypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouokaypanda/gifts).



> This was supposed to just be cute sickfic but things got, as usual, a tad out of hand.

Grizzop, when he was sick, tended to be just as much of a stubborn menace as always, insisting on getting out of bed, trying to take care of himself. So when he wandered off to sleep early, ears drooping, face pale, it was worrying, but also a bit of a relief.

Wilde waited an hour to go check in on him, figuring he risked getting snapped at for hovering if he went too soon.

Grizzop was shivering, even under two quilts, and Wilde frowned. He placed a hand across the back of his neck, found it slick with sweat. Grizzop’s eyes fluttered open. “M’cold,” he mumbled.

“You’re burning up,” Wilde said. “I’m getting Zolf.”

Grizzop closed his eyes. “’kay,” he said quietly, no argument, no protest, and Wilde bolted back to the living room, taking the stairs two at a time.

“You’re upset he’s resting when he’s sick?” Zolf asked as they climbed the stairs.

“You know what he’s like!” Wilde protested. “He didn’t even call me a mother hen. And he’s got a fever.”

“You _are_ a mother hen,” Zolf said, pushing the door open. “He’s probably - ”

He stopped talking as he laid a hand across Grizzop’s back, turning away from Wilde, brows furrowed. Grizzop’s breathing had grown ragged in the time it had taken Wilde to fetch Zolf, each breath rattling in his chest. Zolf lifted him into his lap and Grizzop curled against him, a pained noise in his throat. “Go get some water and the first aid kit,” Zolf said, and for the second time that night, Wilde ran from the room, not even taking the time to point out _I told you so._

Wilde was almost certain Zolf had sent him out of the room to give Zolf a moment to collect himself, but he went and did as he was told without complaint. When he returned, the air felt bright with magic, cool and clear, and he could hear Zolf murmuring softly.

“Grizzop, sweetheart, I need you to stay awake, all right? Work with me here. Just stay with me.”

“Zolf?” Zolf made an admirable effort to keep his face neutral when he looked up. “What...what is it?”

“We...may need to get him to the temple,” Zolf said. “And maybe get the anti magic cuffs on him.”

* * *

Azu answered Wilde’s frantic mobile stone call, and soon she and Einstein had appeared in their living room. Zolf had armed himself; Wilde had barely managed to pull on boots and a cloak, cradling Grizzop against his chest, unwilling to let him go. The anti magic cuffs hadn’t seemed to make any difference; Grizzop was still a hot coal against Wilde’s chest, and the shivering had only gotten worse. 

“Okay, everyone hold on,” Einstein said, laying a hand on Wilde’s shoulder, casting a worried glance down at Grizzop. “Don’t want to go losing anyone.”

There was the _rushpop_ of shifting air pressure, the brief disorienting flash of magic, and then Wilde found himself face to face with a very stern-looking Artemesian cleric - or rather, with her bow, drawn and leveled between his eyes.

Wilde curled protectively around Grizzop. “Wait wait wait!” Azu said from behind him. “We need help, we’re sorry to intrude so suddenly but we were in a hurry, our friend - ”

The cleric, Wilde realized, was a little bright around the eyes, face flushed with an unhealthy heat. “He’s one of yours,” he said, straightening slightly so she could see Grizzop.

Her expression didn’t soften, but some of the anger went out of it, and she lowered her bow. “I’ve seen him here before,” she said, and pressed a hand to her forehead. “I - I don’t know if we’ll be able to help you.”

Zolf lowered the glaive he’d lifted the second he had seen Wilde in the woman’s crosshairs. “What d’you mean? Something going around?”

She turned to look at him, her eyes flat and clouded for a moment before she shook herself, turned back to Wilde, and sighed. “You - you should come with me,” she said, took two steps deeper into the temple, and crumpled to the floor in a faint.

Zolf swore and went to his knees, checking the woman’s pulse. “Burning up,” he muttered. “What the _hell_ is going on?”

“Perhaps I should alert my order,” Azu said, kneeling next to Zolf and pulling the cleric into her arms. “This is... unusual, to say the least.”

“What’re you guys doing here?”

A door had opened on the other end of the entry hall; Edward Keystone was striding towards them, and behind him, moving much less steadily, was a woman Wilde had only met twice before. Eva van Dijk, even flushed with fever and swaying on her feet, was an imposing figure, but when she saw Grizzop lifeless in Wilde’s arms, she froze, her expression crumbling into something like horror.

“We need help,” Wilde said weakly, and couldn’t bring himself to look away from her.

* * *

The room they all crowded into was cramped and unadorned, but it had a sofa, and Zolf ushered Eva down onto it. “Someone feel like telling me what’s going on?” he asked, his voice taking on the gruff tightness it always did when he was worried. “Are all of you lot just dropping like flies?”

“It would seem that way,” Eva muttered. She was leaning heavily against the arm of the sofa, breathing hard, looking like it was taking a great deal of effort just to stay upright. “It started earlier this evening. We thought it was a natural illness, at first, but it’s been progressing so quickly, and now...” She looked at Grizzop where Wilde had laid him on the sofa next to her. “It seems unlikely to be natural,” she finished.

“I had a dream,” Ed piped up. “That’s what I was telling Eva when you showed up. I think Apollo’s worried. Artemis _is_ his sister, you know.”

“I think,” Azu said, frowning, “it would be for the best if I let the Aphrodite cult know something’s wrong. We can help.” She turned to Einstein, who was already rolling up his sleeves. “Perhaps,” she said gently, “bring us outside the front doors this time?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Einstein said, “I know that _now.”_ He took Azu’s hand. “Back soon,” he said. “Try to not die in the meantime.” And with a pop, they were gone.

For a moment it was quiet, except for the labored breathing of the two paladins on the couch. Eventually Zolf huffed. “Right,” he said. “Some kinda curse, then. Like with you” - he nodded at Wilde - “just on a bigger scale.”

“The anti magic isn’t working,” Wilde pointed out. “Even if someone were cursing all of Artemis’ followers, the anti magic cuffs would help.”

Zolf frowned silently down at Grizzop, placing a hand over his forehead, his frown deepening to feel the sickly heat still coursing through him. “What if,” he said, then stopped. “This is gonna sound stupid,” he warned, “but what if it isn’t the _followers_ getting cursed?”

There was a heavy silence. “I don’t get it,” Ed said after a beat.

“You can’t be serious,” Eva said faintly. “Who on earth could possibly - ”

“I don’t know,” Zolf said defensively. “But it would explain why the anti magic isn’t working, and it would for _sure_ mess with all you lot if that’s what’s going on.”

“If we assume that’s the case,” Wilde said, “that would narrow down our suspects to someone with a grudge and the power to place a curse on a god.”

Another beat of silence. “It’s not a long list,” Zolf admitted. “Do you know of anyone?”

Eva started to shake her head, then stopped. “It would be - ” She trailed off, pressing a hand to her eyes. “Some of the Mars cult,” she said eventually, “have never quite forgiven us for our role in the war.”

“But,” Ed said slowly, “they were all kicked out, weren’t they? The new ones are all, you know. New. Didn’t have anything to do with the war.”

Zolf and Wilde exchanged a look. “In theory,” Wilde agreed. “In practice that may not be the case.”

“Barging into their temple and accusing them of trying to curse a god isn’t exactly going to be a vision of diplomacy,” Zolf said. “But if they’re our only lead - ”

“I will come with you,” Eva said, tried to stand, and swayed dangerously on her feet.

Wilde caught her and eased her back onto the sofa. “Now I see where he gets it,” he said in a dry aside to Zolf. “You aren’t going anywhere like this. Frankly I’m astounded you’re still conscious.”

“It’s a close thing,” Eva admitted. “You can’t go alone. This is church business, there are new rules now.”

“We’ll take Ed,” Zolf said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Said it himself, it’s his god’s sister gettin’ cursed, that counts for something.”

There was a knock on the door, and Wilde glanced at Zolf - he had his glaive out, and beside him Ed had stepped forward, mace at the ready. Wilde threw open the door. Einstein jerked back, eyes wide. “Hey, okay! I get it, tensions are high, it’s cool!”

“You could have teleported in,” Wilde said, sagging in relief.

“What, and get skewered? No thanks.” He gestured over his shoulder. “We brought healers. Dunno how much help it’ll be, but, you know. Can’t hurt to have some extra paladins around, right?”

Wilde heard Eva let out a soft noise behind him, and thought for a moment she was exasperated by the sea of pink armor visible over Einstein’s shoulder, but when he looked she had slumped over the arm of the couch, eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids. Ed carefully shifted her until she was horizontal, and she curled unconsciously around Grizzop. “We should go,” Wilde said. “You and Azu can keep everyone here safe for now?”

“You got it,” Einstein said, flashing a thumbs up. “You uh...you’re gonna be okay?”

“One hopes,” Wilde said. “Zolf - ”

From the couch, Grizzop made a soft noise, reaching one arm up weakly. In an instant, Wilde and Zolf were at his side. “Come back,” he rasped, eyes slitting open, bright with fever. “Save her and - and come back to - to - ” His eyes unfocused and closed again, and he went limp.

Wilde swallowed, stood, and draped his cloak over Eva and Grizzop. Zolf looked up from where he had knelt by Grizzop’s side, eyes dark. “You heard him,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get going.”

* * *

If the Artemis temple was practical, the temple of Mars was hostile. Even the straightforward iconography present in the temple of Artemis was absent here, the architecture brutalist and severe, unadorned, unmarked, unwelcoming. Wilde looked up at it, mouth set in a line.

“So what’s our...plan, here?” Zolf asked, after a few moments of staring up at the temple in silence. “Knock on the door and say, ‘Hi there, we were wondering if you good folk were hexing the moon’?”

“Probably not,” Wilde said slowly. He glanced over at Ed. “What do you think, Mr. Keystone?”

Ed shifted, arms crossed over his chest, open distrust on his face. “There’s something weird going on in there,” he said.

“Wilde,” Zolf said suddenly. “What phase is the moon meant to be in?”

“What? Why would I know - ” Wilde looked up at the night sky. “Not - not that one,” he said, scanning the sky. There was not a cloud - or a moon - in sight. “All right, we go in, _now.”_

The doors swung open, unlocked, and the temple inside was eerily silent. Zolf closed his eyes, then flinched. “Up,” he said, eyes opening. “There’s - _fucking hell,_ I don’t know _what_ they’re doing, but it’s up on the roof.”

They began to creep through the temple, but as they pressed deeper, it became increasingly obvious nobody was going to stop them. When they found a the stairway, they discovered why.

The corpse was bent at an awkward angle, as if he’d been kicked down the stairs and landed on his neck, but he had so many spear wounds it was impossible to say if he’d been alive when he’d broken his spine. Ed knelt and gently closed his eyes. “That’s Mars armor,” Zolf said darkly. “Maybe it’s a setup.”

“Doesn’t matter, let’s go,” Wilde said, and began taking the stairs two at a time.

There were more Mars cultists scattered in the stairwell, and as Wilde leapt over the third of them, he realized what was bothering him about them: they were all _young_ cultists, likely joined post-war. The new cult of Mars, dedicated to the new world, without the meritocrats - and they were all dead, slaughtered, trying to defend - or attack, maybe - whatever was at the top of the stairs. Wilde skidded to a halt before the door to the roof, breathing hard. “Zolf,” he said.

Zolf took his hand, squeezed it once, then pulled away to light his glaive. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

_Grizzop hurts. He aches down to his fucking **soul,** burning and freezing and nauseous with it. Something is wrong, something is so, so wrong, and he can’t move to fix it._

_There’s a weight on him. No, not a weight - restraints, he’s bound, kept locked in the dark with bindings around his wrists and ankles and neck. And he wants to rage, to wrench himself free, but he hurts so much, he is so weak, and Artemis -_

_Artemis. He can feel her, dulled and dark, and she is **dying.** It terrifies him, and he wants to reach for her but he can’t move, can’t struggle closer to her, can only lie there and feel her dying and think that if she dies then surely he will die with her, surely his soul could not survive that, and then - _

_Then there’s light._

* * *

Whatever dark magic the old cult had been working, it shattered under Ed’s morningstar with a flare of light like the dawn, like the fullest moon.

When the light faded, Wilde was flat on his back, staring up at the sky. The moon was half-full, bright enough that he could make out the silhouette of its dark side. He sat up with a groan. “What - what happened.”

Beside him, Zolf pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Ed screamed,” he said. “We hit the deck. Something exploded. Unclear on the order of operations.”

“What were they _doing?”_ Wilde demanded, looking around at the scattered cultists. They did not, to Wilde’s eyes, appear to be much of a threat anymore, or indeed much of anything. Their armor almost seemed like it had been pin-cushioned by arrows, but surely...?

Ed appeared over him, smiling. “Evil,” he said simply. He offered Wilde his hand. “Apollo’s happy again.” Wilde accepted the hand up. “Anyway, I think that should take care of everyone.”

“I...feel as if I missed something,” Wilde said, watching in a daze as Ed helped Zolf to his feet.

“I don’t care,” Zolf said. “Someone’s gonna have to find whoever’s in charge of the Mars people and let them know about this and it isn’t gonna be me. I left Poseidon for a _reason.”_

“R-right.” Wilde glanced around at the carnage. “Can we...just...leave?”

“I should probably let someone know what happened,” Ed said thoughtfully. “Maybe the two of you should go check on Grizzop.”

* * *

The horizon was growing pink when Wilde and Zolf made it back to the temple. Azu rushed out to greet them. “His fever broke,” she said. “What happened?”

“Don’t ask,” Zolf groused, stomping past her. “He still where we left him?”

Azu arched an eyebrow at Zolf, then turned curiously to Wilde. “I think our dear cleric is feeling a degree of ecclesiastical exhaustion,” Wilde said. “And I have to admit, I can see where he’s coming from.”

When Wilde slipped back into the room where Grizzop and Eva had been asleep, Grizzop was sitting up, getting checked over by Zolf, and Eva was nowhere to be found. “I told you I feel fine,” Grizzop said.

“You’re still warm,” Zolf said. “And shaky.”

“I’m hungry. Fevers always make me hungry. Can we get breakfast?”

“Your brain nearly cooked itself in your thick skull - ”

Wilde leaned against the doorframe and watched them bicker for a moment, then strode across the room, collapsed onto the sofa next to Grizzop, and pulled him into a hug. “If you ever scare me like that again - ”

“Yeah, yeah,” Grizzop said, muffled against Wilde’s shirt. Wilde watched him entwine his fingers with Zolf’s and felt the familiar thrill of warmth in his heart at the sight. “Thank you,” Grizzop said, softer. “I don’t think I’d’ve made it to morning if you hadn’t...so, thanks.”

Zolf stood with a grunt and dropped a kiss between Grizzop’s ears. “Next time,” he said, “I’m just making you soup.”


End file.
